


White Prison

by rieieri



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Brain Damage, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Memory Loss, Not a 50 first dates fic, Poor Harry, St Mungo's Hospital
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:35:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21605410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rieieri/pseuds/rieieri
Summary: It all starts and ends in a room with white walls.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 9
Kudos: 35





	White Prison

**Author's Note:**

> It's short and I hope I didn't do too much damage with the grammar. English is not my native language so be aware of that!  
> Enjoy!

**White Prison**

My name is Harry and since 7.09am of this morning I live in room 13, fourth level, St Mungo’s Hospital - or at least, this is what they told me.

When I woke up I found a young man – some time after I discovered he’s Healer Gabriel McKay – in green scrubs who explained to me why I am here. It seems I’m a _broken hero_ who injured himself in a duel against a very powerful Dark Wizard. He told me that during the battle my temporal lobe is been damaged in an irreparable way and my memory goes back to zero every time I go to sleep.

About that, Healer Jones (Kay’s direct superior) urged me to write a very detailed diary of my day to _keep count of the events_ and with the suggestion that it can be helpful to keep me sane. She didn’t say the last thing but I can understand it by myself: for the time being I’m still not an idiot.

So, I think it’s pointless to explain that I have no ideas of who I am, if I have a job, a family, friends or somebody to love in my life. My world starts and ends here, in this white-walls room enriched with colourful plants and little winged golden balls flying around.

Earlier, in the wardrobe in front of me, I’ve found two piles of quite voluminous sheets and they all have labels with my name on. I couldn’t have a better look at them but the paper looks similar to the one Healer Jones gave me today to write my diary. Could they be other memories of _other_ days? If that’s the case I can easily say that, given the amount of paper present in that wardrobe, I’ve been here for some years. Later I’ll try to have a second look.

* * *

I did it: I “stole” some paper from that huge pile just while Gabriel was talking with Jones.

I discovered a copy of my medical records somewhere in those lost days. So, now I now that my name is Harry Potter, I was born on July 31, 1980 and I’m here since May 2, 1998. Considering that the page I’m using today is dated August 14, 2005 I was right saying I’ve been here for a lot.

I was taken aback from the fact that in the list of people to call in case of necessity there’s no-one with my same surname but then I saw my parents’ names with a little ‘deceased’ next to them. So, to recap: I’m 25, I’m an orphan, I’m unmarried and a victim of a Dark Spell went wrong. It seems I also have a partner, the charts talk about a certain Draco Malfoy, and apart from him all the other people that can visit me have Weasley as surname. It’s quite strange but maybe I can obtain more data from Gabriel later today.

Or that’s what I hope.

* * *

I had a visit today. Meeting Draco was strange: I know he’s my boyfriend – even if I think he went on and started a new life in these nearly seven years – but I can’t remember him.

It was strange but not unpleasant and surely I understood why I picked him up: he has the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen, they’re gray and stormy but still calm and relaxing (I know my statement isn’t very trustworthy because my mind reset herself once a day but something inside of me tells me I am right about it).

When he met my eyes he sighed and he passed a hand trough my hair and, just like when you are repeating a poem that you know by heart, he started to speak to me. His voice was a little childish and with an apathetic inflection but I still found it beautiful.

He told me about us: we met at school (Hogwards? Hogwares? Hogwarts? I don’t know, I didn’t really catch it), we were rivals and we hated each others for quite a lot of time. The, when the war started – _really started,_ he specified - he got closer to me and my friends. From collaborating in planning and organizing battles to get romantically involved was a short step. We didn’t enjoy it very much, though, because after a couple of months I ended up here and he remained outside.

He told me even about my famous friends (I checked if they’re on the visitor list and in fact their names are after his).

Their names are Ron and Hermione, they attended our same school and now they are happily married (but not to each other – he said that twisting his mouth like it was something absurd). Hermione’s son is called after me while one of Ron’s daughters has my mum’s name. I was touched and Draco’s face softened in the first little smile of the day.

“It’s typical of you”

I didn’t know what to reply because I really don’t know what’s typical of me and what not. I think he became aware of that because he suddenly changed the topic of the conversation. We then talked about Quidditch a sport that seems very fascinating. A little after that, Gabriel came to say that the visiting hours were nearly over.

Draco stood up, he brushed my forehead again and he pinched my cheek. When I slipped away from that – bothered because he was treating me like a child – he smiled the strange smile from before.

It was when I saw him getting closer to the door that I let that sentence slip of my tongue – and maybe I shouldn’t have done it but it was stronger than me.

He had one hand on the handle of the door when I asked him if he had someone outside waiting for him. Someone with all their marbles, someone that can still remember him when he wake up in the morning.

He stopped, still giving me his shoulders. “I made a promise to you before all of this happened,” he told me. “I have all intention to keep that promise and it doesn’t count if when tomorrow I’ll be back I’ll have to tell you another time about us and our lives.” And then he left.

I want to ask Gabriel if it’s possible to send him my diaries: maybe he could be good for Draco knowing that in a certain way I’m thinking about him everyday too. Yes, I really have to ask him!

* * *

Gabriel has just brought me dinner and I took advantage of it to ask him about the possibility of sending Draco the papers. He looked surprised about this request but he grinned and reassured me: to do it I only have to sign a document that let the hospital free from all responsibility about the content of the papers.

In a short time he will bring me pen and parchment so I can do it before going to bed. I’m happy: I think Draco will appreciate it.

Who knows? Maybe he will sit on a comfy sofa with Ron and Hermione reading about events, people and things that I can’t remember. Maybe they will laugh or maybe they will cry, who knows?

I just wish I could be there with them right now!

It’s strange though to feel the loss of something but can’t remember that I have felt it, of feelings and emotions that at the moment are unknown to me just like my life. Objectively it’s absurd because I don’t even have an idea of what I’m missing – I only know the reality of this room but I feel a strong need to be there with them.

But I’m talking of something impossible and it’s meaningless. How long does it take to Gabriel to come back?

* * *

Well, I wrote and did all that I had to write and do. I’m tired and it’s nearly time for the light to be turned off but I don’t mind: I lived a full life today.

Who knows if tomorrow Draco will tell me our story using the very same words of today? Or if he will look at me with the same calm and stormy gray eyes. Maybe not, maybe he will be too happy about the surprise I prepared for him and maybe, after reading this page, he will decide to take me home with him.

I wish –

Gabriel has just come to give me the goodnight.

They all are so kind with me and it’s strange: when tomorrow I am going to wake up I won’t remember about today or yesterday or a year ago or about my life in general. I can’t even hold a grudge in the very end. Well it’s a sad thought: my life is like a black hole where nothing gets in and nothing gets out.

But stop thinking about these things, they are fleeting and tomorrow they won’t exist anymore. Just like Draco, Ron, Hermione and Gabriel. I will have only this white prison to start again a self-discovery journey, one more to add to the piles that are closed in the wardrobe and that I hope Draco will receive.

My name is Harry, since 7.09am of this morning I live in room 13, fourth level, St Mungo’s Hospital and today was my first and last day of _this_ life.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! If that's the case, please leave kudos and write me a review (even a constructive one!).  
> See you! x


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